


First, do no harm

by iatethebiscuit



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: AU, F/M, Rushbelle, Woven Beauty, medical AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-05-27 22:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15034889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iatethebiscuit/pseuds/iatethebiscuit
Summary: Belle French is almost done with her clinical rotations when a professor comes into the emergency room. Four times. Each time with another injury and a more unlikely story. To top it all off, he is creepily familiar. Maybe this is the nudge of fate her mother always mentioned.





	1. Chapter 1

“Airway clear.” 

The emergency room was a strange environment. Belle had thought that the moment she stepped foot in here. There was always a flurry of activity, and it seemed like chaos at first, but as Belle watched the trauma team crowd around the victim of a horrific car crash she knew everyone had their own role. The colours on their overcoats indicated their function in the well-oiled machine. It had been surprisingly easy to turn off her emotion in this setting, instead looking at the process with a clinical eye. In her head, she tried to reason out every step the team took. Neck brace, cervical spinal trauma would have to be excluded. The woman would probably go for a CT scan as soon as she was stabilised. An IV was inserted into the woman’s arm to enable them to give her fluids and medication more easily. She’d probably get some…

“Belle.” Dr. Whale said.

Belle stepped outside quickly, not wanting to be in anyone’s way by talking in the doorway. Dr. Whale was her supervisor the next few weeks. This was one of her last rotations as an intern. She liked that she was given some more responsibility and leeway to work on her own here, but most of her time was still spent trying to find the most inconspicuous corner to stand in. 

“Mr. Rush is back.” The doctor instructed her. “I’m busy, you know his status better than the others. Are you okay to see him?”

Belle sighed mentally. Dr. Rush was a professor at the nearby faculty of Astronomy and Astrophysics. He’d come in for the first time on her third day here, and she had seen him together with dr. Whale. When he came in again two days later though, she was left alone with him. She strongly suspected it was due to his rather specific character. She’d seen him a total of four times in the three weeks she’d been at the emergency department.

“Yeah.” She said. “No problem.”

Dr. Whale nodded. “Thank you. Can you report back to me in an hour?”

“Of course. I’ll update his file too, I’ll let you know if I have any difficulty.”

“Great.”

She set off to the room dr. Whale had indicated. When she opened the door, she found dr. Rush sitting on the examination table, his black eye at a better stage of healing than it had been four days ago. He was holding his arm close to his body, though, and his face became a mask as soon as she came in. She could tell he was in pain.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were being abused by your partner.” She said, closing the door behind her and pulling a stool from under the table.

“Miss French.” He said by way of greeting. “I’d say it’s good to see you again, but that means once again there is no doctor to see me.”

“I assure you I’ll do just fine.” She said. “You haven’t died so far. What’s the problem today?”

She observed him closely as he stretched his elbow slightly, his jaw squaring momentarily. Fracture, maybe. There was some blood on his shirtsleeve, so definitely a cut. God, she really hoped she wouldn’t have to stitch him up, it had been a while since she’d done that on her own. 

“I fell down the stairs.” He said curtly, and Belle frowned. His stories never quite seemed to match his injuries.

“Can you take your shirt off yourself? I’ll need to have a look.”

Rush narrowed his eyes at her, but he carefully peeled off his shirt. She could tell he was in a lot of pain from the way he compensated with his shoulder so he wouldn’t have to move his elbow, even if he seemed to be hiding it. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves from a box by the sink, turning on the light above the examination table and pointing it at the cut in his upper arm. 

She manipulated his arm slightly, pressing down on the sides of the wound and making him suck in a sharp breath. “Looks painful.” She said as she checked whether there was anything in the wound.

“Your diagnostic process is truly mindboggling.” He deadpanned. “Surely I don’t pay you to state the obvious.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Technically you don’t pay me, you pay the hospital. I work here for free.” She sighed. “I’m going to have to stitch this, I’m sorry. It won’t close properly by itself.”

She moved her focus down to his elbow, pressing on some specific points around the joint.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with a nee… ah…”

“Is the pain worst there?” Belle asked, indicating the tip of his elbow.

Rush nodded. He performed the movements she asked him to make, stopping when the pain got too bad.

“I’ll get you an x-ray too.” She said. “I think it’s broken. You’re right-handed, right?”

He nodded, cradling his left arm with the right. “You’re lucky.” She continued. “If it’s broken you’ll have a cast for a few weeks. At least you’ll still be able to write.”

“I’ll make sure to thank my lucky stars that I only broke my left elbow.” He snarked. 

Belle rolled her eyes, getting up to gather materials to stitch him up from the cupboards lining the wall. She doubted between two sizes of needles, eventually going for the smaller and hoping it was the right one. It wouldn’t be a major problem if it wasn’t, but still. 

“If there’s anything that’s making you come in all the time with injuries you can tell me, you know.” She said as she placed a sterile pad next to him on the table. “I can help you report them to the police.”

Rush huffed. “I don’t see why I would report anyone to the police for self-inflicted injuries.” 

She sighed inwardly again, checking the dates on all the packages before ripping them open. “You can say that all you want, but there’s no way anyone is this clumsy. You’d never been here before the first time I saw you, and now you’ve come in four times. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence.”

He stayed quiet, his jaw squaring as she disinfected the skin around the cut.

“If you’re protecting someone by staying quiet, you shouldn’t. If someone is hurting you…”

“Yes, thank you, miss French. I assure you I can take care of myself.” He said dismissively.

She didn’t say anything while she stitched him up, focusing on her work so she wouldn’t leave a scar. Or at least as minimal as possible. It took a little longer than she would have liked, but at least it was done well. She went back to the cupboard to get some dressing materials to cover it.

“Would it be okay with you if I presented your case this week? We have to pick a patient every week to cover in depth.” She said.

“Am I that interesting?” Rush asked, inspecting his arm.

She chuckled. “Well, your injuries are quite basic, I’m afraid. I could discuss my communication skills though. The road to physicianship is lined with endless self-reflection.”

“Go ahead. I would never want to get in the way of education.”

She smiled, taking care to bandage his arm properly. He certainly wasn’t the most open man, but she liked him. She could tell he was a good man underneath it all. She was curious about why he was getting hurt so often, but she knew he wouldn’t tell her until he wanted to. She’d spent too much time with people like him to start arguing, especially when he was just a patient.

“I can put your arm in a sling if you want? Keep it stable until you get the x-ray, it could be a few hours if you’re unlucky.” 

He grumphed. “I have class in an hour. I take it I’ll have to call my boss?”

“Afraid so.” She said. “Even if you get a spot within an hour, we’ll need to have a look at it and get you in a cast still. If you’re really unlucky this could mean surgery too. It’s just a wait and see at this point.”

“In that case I’ll take the sling.”

She nodded, taking a cloth from the cupboard and folding it on the table. She indicated for him to pull up his forearm slightly as she knotted the fabric behind his neck. 

“That should keep you going for a while.” She said, pinning an excess bit of fabric down. “Are you sure I can’t help you with anything else?”

Something odd shone in his eyes, but it was gone again in a second. Curiosity, almost. “Don’t worry about me, miss French.” His tongue curled around her name in a familiar way. God bless the Scottish.

“I’ll go find Dr. Whale, get him to order you an x-ray. You can wait in the waiting room, they’ll come get you when they’re ready for you. I’ll see you after to discuss the results.” She said. 

He nodded, and she gave him a smile before leaving the room again to find her supervisor. He was an odd man.


	2. Chapter 2

Belle finally turned on her phone again when she was done working, around midnight. The day had been hectic, so she’d volunteered to stay a little longer. It had taught her a lot, but she felt guilty that she hadn’t thought to call Alan. They were supposed to have a movie night tonight. 

She’d met Alan Weaver almost two years ago. She’d complained to a friend about the difficulties of dating in med school, and by pure chance Alan had told him about his bad luck dating just a few days earlier. There was a significant age gap there that surprised both of them when they turned up at the restaurant Killian had selected for them, but after a few minutes it had seemed to melt away. He was interested in her studies, and his work intrigued her. On top of that he was just a generally pleasant person to be around. He was down-to-earth, and she liked that. Their first date had ended with her beating him quite spectacularly in a game of bowling (he still insisted it was just because she hadn’t been drinking and he had), their second with the best sex she’d ever had. A few months later they decided there was no use paying rent for two apartments, so she’d moved in with him. She liked it better than living with roommates anyway. Just her, Alan and their geriatric cat Chip. They made quite the family.

She sighed when she saw she’d missed two calls. She decided against calling him back. If he was already in bed, she didn’t want to wake him. She splashed some water in her face to freshen up before making her way down to the garage. She’d be home in half an hour anyway. 

45 minutes later she closed the door behind her, hanging her keys on their designated hook. There were noises coming from the living room, and she pushed off her shoes before going in and dumping her bag on the ground. 

“Hey.” She said, a tired smile coming on her face when she saw her boyfriend sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand and some cop show on the TV. Even though he always pointed out every inaccuracy to her, he loved watching those things. She supposed she was the same with Gray’s. “Sorry I didn’t call, it was so busy it slipped my mind.”

He smiled at her. “I figured.” He said. “I got pizza for you too, it’s in the fridge.”

“Thank you.” She said with relief. She hadn’t had anything to eat since 3 that afternoon, and she was hungry. She heated up the pizza in the microwave, and a few minutes later she collapsed on the couch next to him. 

She pressed a kiss to his lips, and he rubbed her thigh softly. “Long day?” He asked. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She said. “At least dr. Whale gave me a good evaluation. Sorry I missed movie night.”

“We’ll do it over tomorrow. Do you want to watch something else?”

She shook her head, starting on her pizza. He pulled her legs into his lap, kneading the muscles, and she thanked her lucky stars for him. She relaxed a little as she ate, leaving the stress of the day behind her. 

“That patient came in again.” She said. “The one I told you about. It’s creepy every time.”

His eyebrows rose. “The one who looks like me?”

She nodded. “It’s so strange. He’s Scottish, too. You’re sure you don’t have a twin brother you were separated from at birth?”

He chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?”

“I guess not.” She said with a small smile. “They do say everyone has seven lookalikes in the world. Maybe you and your brethren just congregate in Storybrooke, Maine.”

“Seven lookalikes, huh?” He said, smirking. “Now there’s a dream.”

She laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “Behave. I think I’m going to go take a shower, I got gunk all over me today. I’m exhausted, I think I’m off straight to bed after.”

He nodded, turning off the tv. “I have to check up on Killian before I go to bed, shouldn’t be more than 15 minutes. He was having trouble with his case before I left.”

She put her plate in the dishwasher before going to take a shower. The hot water was heaven for her aching muscles, and when she was done scrubbing and Alan came in to brush his teeth, she just stood for a few minutes, letting the warmth cascade over her. She put on fresh pajamas and brushed her teeth before crawling into bed, where Alan was reading. He put away his book when she curled up against him. 

“I think something’s going on with this guy.” She said. “He comes in with strange injuries, his story never adds up… I’m not sure what to do with him.”

He stroked his hair, scratching her scalp softly. “What are you thinking?” He asked. 

“I don’t know. He says his injuries are just from accidents, but they can’t be. There’s just too much. Someone must be doing something to him. He doesn’t want to go to the police though.”

“Well, you can’t force anyone to report their attacker.” He said. “I’ll keep an eye out for reports though. If I hear anything that matches this guy I’ll let you know.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Of course.”

She settled herself against him a little more comfortably, her leg between his and her arm draped over his chest. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“Goodnight.” He whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

“You wanted to go see that ship, right?” Belle asked, popping the last bit of salmon fillet in her mouth.

Her and Killian had lunch together once every few weeks. He’d been her neighbour for about a year when she locked herself out of her apartment and had to wait for the landlord. He’d offered to make her tea while she waited, and since then they had been good friends. Both their jobs were hard and made long hours, but they carved out a few hours to catch up regularly. It helped that his superior officer was her boyfriend, of course.

“Do you have the time? Alan said he was taking you to a museum this afternoon.”

“He’s off work at five.” She said. “There’s a lecture we were planning to go to tonight, but we have plenty of time to see the boat if you want.”

“Ship.” He corrected her. For the last few years, conservation had been going on to uncover the wrecks of three ships that had sunk off the coast of Storybrooke in the mid-1800s. The findings were now displayed on a replica of one of the ships for locals and visitors alike. They’d been meaning to go together, the ship would close and sail to New York for an exhibit there in a month or so. “That would be really nice actually. I would love to get a break from your boyfriend.”

Belle chuckled. “Is he that bad?”

“Inspection’s coming in for an audit of the precinct in two weeks and he wants us to get everything in order. Rightfully so, but he can be a bit of a pain. Yesterday he had me go through all our paper files to make sure there were no mistakes in the computerised database. I had to spend a whole shift just checking numbers!”

“He’s thorough.” She agreed.

Killian gallantly paid for her meal (“I know what a bitch student loans are”) and they walked to the harbor slowly. Storybrooke was a nice town, she’d moved her for her studies. The people were nice enough, and the town had a rich history going back generations. It had started small two hundred years ago, but now it was a true city, complete with a university. It was safe enough that she could walk around by herself, often even at night, so she took a lot of walks. 

After about five minutes, she noticed a man who had been in the restaurant with them on the other side of the street. She didn’t pay much attention to him, but a few minutes and turns later he was still around. 

“Don’t look.” She said, keeping her eyes in front of her and talking in a conversational tone. Alan had taught her plenty about how to be safe. “I think we’re being followed.”

“Are you sure?” Killian asked, concerned. She knew he had more training than she did, maybe he knew something she didn’t.

“This guy was in our restaurant and he’s still taking the same route we are.” She said.

Killian linked his arm through hers, and she went along with it. He steered them around the corner. “We’re going to make a circle around this block. If he’s still here when we get back to where we started you need to call Alan.”

She nodded, and they kept talking like nothing was wrong as they walked. For a moment, she thought he’d gone, but when they waited at the traffic lights to cross the street, he came up next to them. She squeezed Killian’s arm with hers, her eyes flitting to the man next to him. He was about his size, his hair thinning and his hairline receding. In every way, he was non-descript. 

Killian nodded at her, and she pulled out her phone, dialing Alan as the light turned green. 

As her phone rang, she remembered dr. Rush, the strange patient who had come in multiple times. For some reason the thought sent a shiver down her spine. He’d looked so much like Alan. 

“Hey.” Alan’s voice was a comfort, like always. “I’m still at work, Belle, is it urgent?”

“I’m on Kenneth street with Killian.” She said. They turned left after crossing, the other man going right. She had very little doubt they’d see him again soon enough. “We’re being followed.”

“Does Killian have his gun on him?” Alan asked, suddenly sounding much less warm and much more like a police officer. 

“I don’t think so. He’s off duty.” 

“Okay.” She heard a chair scrape backward. “I’m on my way, you’re close to the station, I can be there in a few minutes. Can you get into a shop?” 

“Granny’s is close.”

“Get in there. There’s cameras outside there too, if anyone follows you in we’ll be able to find them. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

Killian held out his hand, and she gave him the phone. Her heart was pounding in her throat. Killian’s voice was lower as he talked to Alan, more serious. She was glad she wasn’t alone right now. When Granny’s came into view, she almost let out a sigh of relief. Killian quickly ushered her in, settling them at a table by the window. She scanned the street outside, but the man seemed to have disappeared. She didn’t know whether that should add to or take away her apprehension. 

Barely two minutes later a cop car parked in front of the diner, Alan and a colleague stepping out. He gave her quick instructions before making his way in. He scanned the diner quickly before finding them. 

She got up, wrapping her arms around him. She had no idea why anyone would follow them. Were they targeting her or Killian? What if she was in danger? Did this have anything to do with the strange dr. Rush who kept showing up at her emergency room?

“Are you okay?” Alan asked, pulling back to look her up and down. 

She nodded. “No harm done. Just an adrenaline rush.”

Killian got up, nodding at Alan. “I’ll go back to the restaurant we were at, see if I can get them to let me take a look at their camera footage. He didn’t exactly stand out.”

“I’ll take Belle back to the precinct.” Alan said, turning to his girlfriend. “You’ll be safe there, at least until we find whoever this is. Do you have any clue who it could be?”

Belle shook her head, holding one hand with the other to stop the tremor in it. “No.” She said. “Never seen him before in my life. Do you think it could have something to do with that patient?”

Alan frowned. “I don’t think so.” He said. “But we’ll look into it. Come on, let’s get you to the station so we can look for this guy.”

She let him lead her to the car, relieved that he was taking care of it, but left with the sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.


	4. Chapter 4

Belle’s finger hovered above the search button. Was this crossing the line of professionalism? She stared at the text typed in Facebook’s search bar. 

_Nicholas Rush ___

____

____

She bit her lip. This was definitely crossing a line. She had no business looking into her patients’ personal lives. It had been a few days since she and Killian had been followed, and police investigation had turned up nothing. They’d seen the man on several minutes of camera footage, but they couldn’t see his face. It was a dead end. Alan would have to close the investigation soon, there was probably nothing to find. He tried to reassure her, but something still felt wrong.

She pressed the search button against her better judgement, scrolling through the results. Nothing. Not the man she was looking for, at least. She opened her browser on her phone, typing his name into LinkedIn. He seemed like the kind of guy to keep a profile there, at least. She greeted a nurse when she came into the break room, taking a bite of her sandwich as the page loaded. She found him quickly, and her heart pounded as she clicked on his name.

The picture was of him on a stage, probably at a conference or something judging by the lanyard around his neck. She scrolled down to find his current job listing. Astrophysics professor at Storybrooke University, that was nothing new. His previous job had been for NASA. Nothing at all gave her a clue of… well, whatever she was looking for. Anything strange.

“Belle.” 

She looked up to find David’s head poking around the doorway. He was a fellow student, and a very nice one at that. He came from a small town, always had his long hair tied up in a bun and he loved country music. He was an odd figure, but he was the sweetest guy on the team.

“There was a guy gunned down on Park Lane. They’re bringing him in now, Whale wants us observing.”

She nodded, wrapping up her sandwich and quickly putting it in the fridge. She’d eat it later. She gulped down her water, sliding her phone into the pocket of her white coat as she followed David down the halls. 

“What do we know about him?” She asked. 

David shrugged. “I saw it on the news. Supposedly he’s a priest or something, got shot in full daylight in front of his church. They thought terrorism first, but it was just him. The police haven’t found who did it yet, they say.”

If this was attempted murder, Alan was probably working on the case. She hoped he’d be safe. She didn’t like when he investigated things this violent. 

There was already a team waiting in Resus, and David and her took a place by the wall so as not to interfere. The patient hadn’t arrived yet, but he had to be close. Whale was leading the team, instructing nurses and doctors alike. He was generally quite a prankster, but when situations like this happened he became a natural leader. They might learn more from that than from how they actually treated this patient. 

She heard a siren come closer, and she savoured the last moment of silence in the room before the inevitable rush of activity that came with a situation like this. The doors to the hallway opened, and two EMTs rushed in their patient, one administering oxygen as they walked. Two police officers flanked them on the way in.

She couldn’t see properly with the way she was standing, but it was too busy to move. A nurse drew the curtains around their section of the room, one EMT quickly presenting the patient, the whole team listening. 

“Robert Macavoy, male, 43. Multiple gunshot wounds to the chest. Airway secured, breathing rate 30, saturation 75%, heart rate 150, blood pressure 85/45. Suspected pneumothorax and cardiac trauma, severe bleeding from the chest.”

The moment he finished, an anesthesiologist set to intubating the man, someone else cutting the clothes off him and attaching him to monitors. The ECG was rapid, and it was definitely not a sinus rhythm. 

“No way they can save him.” David whispered. Small pools of blood were forming on the floor where it dripped off the bed. 

The doctor blocking Belle’s view of the patient’s face moved, and her heart skipped a beat when she recognised the patient. 

Or well, who he looked like.

She stood rooted to the ground in shock. Dr. Rush, and now this man? What the hell was happening? She could barely hear what was being shouted, her mind racing. What was happening? How did he look like Alan? Why was he shot? How? Was Alan safe? If he was going after whoever did this… Maybe the person who did this was the one going after dr. Rush too. 

“Clear.”

She shook herself out of her daze, realising that dr. Whale had two paddles to the man’s chest. He couldn’t die. She had too many questions. She needed to talk to him, she had to…

The man’s body seized up as he was shocked, one spike on his ecg the only indication that his heart had received an electrical pulse. With each shock, her heart squeezed. He looked so much like Alan… Chills went down her spine. Alan was fine. He had to be. She was numb as she watched, not comprehending what was happening. 

She wasn’t sure what to think when dr. Whale put down the paddles. “Time of death 2:49.” He said. 

Her chest felt like it was loaded with lead, and her hands shook as she walked out, pushing open the doors to the outside. She heard David call after her, but she didn’t stop. She pulled her phone out of her pocket as she sat down on a bench, dialing Alan’s number. 

It took a minute before he picked up. “Belle, I’m busy. Can I call you back later?”

“I need you to come to the hospital.” She said, her vision blurred with tears. 

“I’m needed here, I’m sorry. Is it important?”

She rested her forehead on her hand, sitting forward. She was shaking badly. “That priest. He’s dead. He just came in, he’s dead.”

Alan was quiet for a second. He knew how she was with patients. She got attached. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. 

Belle took a deep breath. There was a dread in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t explain. “I think you may be next.” She said.


	5. Chapter 5

David found Belle sitting outside the emergency room, and he took her back to the break room. He made her some tea, he knew she preferred tea over coffee, and had her sit on the couch, the hot liquid in her hands to warm her up. 

Belle sat on that couch for what felt like forever until Alan came in, his badge still on his belt and his gun hanging from its holster. “Hey.” He said. “Killian covered me, a nurse said you might be in here.”

She got up, putting the tea on the table and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him close. He held her closely in response. She’d sounded extremely upset over the phone. A young man in a white coat sat on the couch, looking at him like he’d seen a ghost, but he ignored him for now. Only Belle mattered.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, rubbing her back softly. “I’m here, I’m okay.”

They stood like that for a few minutes, him whispering reassurances and her clinging on to him. When she finally pulled back, he guided her to the couch, sitting down next to her. 

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“You remember the patient I told you about, right? The guy who looked like you? I told you I had a weird feeling about him, and then this guy shows up, and he looks just like you too, and he just dies, and…”

“Hey, slow down.” Alan intervened. “It’s alright. You’re okay.”

“You really do look creepily alike.” The young man said, and Weaver looked over at him. “Sure you’re not brothers?”

“I think I’d know if I had brothers.” Weaver replied sardonically before turning back to his girlfriend. 

“I…” Belle said, pulling out her phone. “I can show you. Here, I looked up the other guy right before this one came in. I have no clue what’s going on here, but maybe you can detective something out?”

Alan watched her open an app, and a profile page of some sort popped up. He had to admit when he took the phone that the man in question did look like a long-haired, poorly groomed version of himself. 

“Do you have a computer here I can use?” He asked, an idea striking him. 

David pointed him to one in the corner, using his account to log in. Alan opened up the browser, finding the system he used in his daily work. With Belle’s help, he found her patient’s profile through facebook. He copied the photo, running it through facial recognition software.

“Maybe there’s someone in the database who also fits into this weird-ass group.” He said. “Maybe they have more information. And whoever orchestrated this, maybe they’re some sort of criminal. If so, this should get them.”

It took a little while, but after a minute or two the system spat out a file. Two, rather. He opened the first one first, which was dated two years ago. His own face, this time even more poorly groomed and in serious need of a shower stared back at him. The eyes were different though, somehow.

“I read about this case.” He said. “Serial killer active in Storybrooke a few years ago. Cannibal, if I recall correctly. He was taken in a year before I started as a detective.”

“Maybe he knows something.” Belle said hopefully, even if the prospect of talking to a serial killer terrified her.

“I remember Killian said he was killed by his cellmate a few months ago.” Alan said. “If he did know something, he’s not telling us.”

He closed the file, opening the second one. It showed a picture of a man in an immaculate three-piece suit. He was smirking, even on his mugshot, something that always made Alan itch to punch someone in the face. 

“Mr. Robert Gold.” He said. “Did a few days in jail for minor assault, somewhere in Seattle.”

“That’s odd.” David said. “He doesn’t fit the pattern. You’ve all been in Storybrooke so far. How come he lives in Seattle?”

A quick google search of the name found reports on a few court proceedings mentioning his name in the prosecution and an interview in an online school newspaper by a boy called Henry Mills.

“So he’s in real estate.” Alan said. “But he also owns a pawnshop. God, I hate this guy already.”

He opened up the next article on the list, in what looked to be a small newspaper, the Hyperion Chronicle. He frowned when the page loaded. _Mr. Gold to marry Belle French_ , it said, with a picture of the guy and… well, and Belle. His Belle. He looked around, but found Belle staring at it in utter shock. 

“I take it you don’t know this guy?” He asked. 

“I’ve never heard of him before.” Belle said. “I’ve never even been to Seattle.”

Alan turned back to the screen, studying the image again. “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”


End file.
